Bound by soul, fate and destiny
by Tolleren
Summary: Merlin was never sent to Camelot by his mother, instead he was found by Cenred and the sorcerer "The Shadow". Bound and unable to get away, Merlin now finds himself in a dangerous game and a war he isn't really a part of. Will destiny be fulfilled? Sometimes your greatest enemy is yourself. AU. Will be a reveal fic.
1. Part one – Destiny awakes

**Part one – Destiny awakes**

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** Prologue**

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**I have been writing on this story for nearly a year now; that means that my art of writing has changed at lot, which I think is very confusing. Therefor I have decided to repost every chapter, written so the story "flows" a little bit more. Don't worry I won't change the plot or anything important!**

**I hope you will continue to follow this story.**

**Big thanks to my beta BlackBandit for the wonderful help :)**

**I don't own Merlin!**

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Night had come, and the only light to be seen was the full moon, who bathed the world in its silver glow.

Four riders were galloping through the forest at a dangerous speed. They didn't have the time to slow down, and had to trust the path and the moonlight to guide them in the right direction. The time given for the task had nearly run out.

They were late.

They looked like moving shadows, and their hooded cloaks fluttering behind them were their coal black wings. Their horses looked like grey ghosts, seemingly flying over the forest floor. The only thing that could give them away was the constant sound of their hooves hitting the ground and a small flash of red. It belonged to a fifth person who was slung over the first man's horse.

He was clearly unconscious.

They continued until they finally reached the end, and the riders broke through the forest. The land was nearly even, only a few bushes standing around, clinging to the earth for dire life in the cold biting wind. To the right, the sea continued endlessly towards the horizon, fading away in the black sky. Towering on a cliff by the shore stood a big castle, as sharp and dark grey as the rocks it stood on.

The riders followed the only path leading towards it, riding dangerously close to the edge of the cliff.

The waves were pressing against the rocks, willing the foundation under the castle to crumble and the walls to fall to be swallowed by the water. The waves crashed against them harder and louder, their play-fight with each other getting wilder and more fiercely every second.

A storm was coming.

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**Please leave a comment with your thoughts :)**


	2. The king, the boy and the shadow

**Chapter 1 – The king, the boy and the shadow**

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**Beta: BlackBandit111**

**Words:2626**

**I don't own Merlin**

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The king sat on his throne. The room was dark, doe to only a few candles were lit, and therefore laying his face nearly completely in shadows. The few servants and guards in the room almost didn't dare to breathe, let alone move, although they had been standing in the same positions for hours. The king didn't have rumour for tolerating laziness or failure, and right now his men were laid.

That didn't bode well for anyone.

The king tapped his finger on the armrest. He liked his throneroom; it fitted his mood, but even kings had dreams. He wanted the throne of Camelot and its riches and the power it would grant him. With the Pendragons out of the way, no one could contradict him anymore.

The thought made him smirk.

He was rather young for a king, only in his thirties, but he already had more battle experience than most people ever would get in their entire life. He had dark hair and taunting eyes that just made him look even more intimidating.

2 years ago he had managed to gather a small army of mercenaries and kill the former king, even while outnumbered 1 to 20. It had been a quick but bloody battle which the former king would have won if it hadn't been for one thing.

Magic.

That was a power the king had discovered was very useful in war. A powerful sorcerer could sometimes be as good as a hundred soldiers, sometimes more, so he always made sure to have a few fighting in his army, loyal only to him and ready to fight to the death if called.

He was proud of himself, but not so arrogant that he didn't know that peace wouldn't last forever. That's why he needed to take Camelot, and why he was waiting at the moment. If they didn't arrive soon, he would give into his boredom and restlessness and get some entertainment for himself. He had a few prisoners he hadn't given a visit for a while.

Finally the doors burst open, and a guard stumbled in, quickly bowing low before the king. The king straightened in the throne and glared at the soldier, daring him the bring bad news. He could nearly hear the other man swallow a lump.

"T-they found him, my lord," he finally stuttered.

The corners of the king's mouth twisted a little. Good news indeed.

He nodded at the guard, and gave him his next order. "Send for the Shadow and tell him his experiment has arrived. Hurry, or you will be entertaining the wyverns tonight."

The guard bowed again, and with a quick, "yes my lord" nearly ran back out of the room.

Fear had always been the king's favourite weapon.

The door creaked open and in marched a figure donned in a black cloak, blending him into the shadows which was his namesake. Unlike the scared peasants and petty lords, the king knew his real name: Eadric. Or now, Sir Eadric. Not only was the man one of the most feared assassins in the five kingdoms, an excellent warrior, and had the ability to get his job done unnoticed, he also was a powerful and skilled sorcerer.

The king wasn't a complete fool. He knew that Eadric only stayed as long as he was paid in plenty of gold, and as long as no one bid a higher prize on the king's head. That was one of the reasons for him knighting the sorcerer; not that the man possessed any loyalty towards the king, but a sign from the king that he would keep his promises as long as he finished the work.

None of them said a word as they waited. It was the time for their real plan to be set in motion.

It wasn't long before the doors burst open again; this time it was three men who entered. Two guards were dragging an unconscious boy over the floor, his messy hair falling into his face. It was difficult to see any details, but the king guessed that the boy couldn't be any older than twenty, probably a few years younger.

The king raised an eyebrow unimpressed. The Shadow apparently shared his first impression as he growled, "Really? You are away for weeks to find a man, and then you bring me a _child!?_"

The guards laid the boy down on the floor and took a step back, when the assassin continued, "… What use could I have for him?"

The king himself was more than a little annoyed, but quickly relaxed again. He knew his men wouldn't dare to play tricks with him. They would have some kind of explanation. They better had a good one.

He took a closer look at the boy. He was tall, but lanky, with raven black hair and pale white skin. He didn't look much of a fighter.

"S-sorry for the wait, my lord" one of the guards stuttered. "We found him near the border of Camelot, close to one of the outlying villages. Sir Wiley said he was who we sought, and performed a sleepingspell on him. He hasn't woken up yet."

"Hmm …" The king eyed the young warlock. He did look a little like his dear old 'friend', just much younger, and with paler skin and higher cheekbones. Maybe … Yes, that had to be it.

They may not have been able to find Balinor himself, but his son would work fine as well. He would also be much easier to _persuade_ into joining them, inexperienced as he had to be. They needed a creature of magic, a person whose soul and life-source was magic, and a son of a dragonlord was such a 'person'.

"Maybe this could even prove useful. Uther wouldn't even know what hit him." The king grinned.

He gave a nod at The Shadow, who stepped forwards, holding two twin bracelets in his hands. They were the Regebat de Animus. Enchanted by the High priestesses of the Old Religion many hundred years ago, and were thought lost to the world. Or; that they had been, until the king had discovered a secret hallway under his castle a few weeks ago, and together with Eadric found a chamber with magical artefacts.

The bracelets were made of silver with small runes and golden symbols on. Only a person with magic would be able to feel them when they were used, the chances of someone discovering them in _Camelot,_ was nearly none existing.

The Shadow crouched down to the boy, and lifted his left arm while placing the bracelet around it. Then he took a few steps back and placed its twin around his right. His eyes flashed gold and he began to chant loud and clear in the tongue of magic. The bracelets first glowed white, before slowly disappearing. Eadric could still feel it around his arm, but could no longer see it there.

The king looked at the boy as he began to twist and shake. He gasped and his eyes snapped open, unseeing and golden. A golden glow appeared around the boy and moved slowly over to engulf the knight too, linking them together.

The light disappeared and the boy stilled once more. The king turned towards the sorcerer, who stared blankly at the wall for a second before turning around again.

To all other than the king, he still had a blank expression without the tiniest bit of emotion in his midnight black orbs, but the king could see the tiniest hint of something more. Was it surprise … or even … awe? But it disappeared as soon as he met the king's eyes.

He gave a nod and turned around, signalling to the guards. They began to drag the limp body out of the room.

It had worked.

He waited until they had all left the room.

"Burl!"

A young servant garbed in black rags hurried from a corner, and bowed low, his beak-like nose nearly touching the floor. "Yes, milord?"

"Be sure he has everything he needs," the king replied, "and tell Sir Harold and Sir Miley to meet me here later."

He did not as much as to look in the direction of the servant. "Of course my lord." The servant bowed again, and disappeared out of a hidden side door.

Two hours later, the king was on his way the see how the Shadow fared with his newest project. He entered without even thinking about knocking (he was the king after all). The man in question sat with closed eyes on a chair in front of the boy. His had a slight frown on his brow.

He looked up when the king entered, and smirked.

"Well?" the king asked the knight, without betraying his inner nervousness. If it hadn't worked properly …

"He is indeed who we seek." The Shadow answered calmly "He has lived in the village all his life, so he will not be recognised. It is unlikely anyone would recognise him as Balinor's son, and knowing Uther, he wouldn't. He has always been blind, and lucky for us, that will now be his downfall."

The king could see the pure joy in The Shadow's eyes by the mere thought of getting revenge on the king of Camelot. He signalled for him to continue.

"He has unfortunately never been trained in magic, but that doesn't mean anything. I can control his magic perfectly because he is a creature of magic and it runs in his blood and through his whole body."

"Just like we talked about ..." the Shadow seemed lost in thoughts now, "I was right in the other theories too; I can send him orders through my mind, and I will be able to control him completely in a small matter of time." The Shadow let his fingers run over the wooden armrest of his chair. He got a glint in his eyes that even the king couldn't place. "I will begin to train him in mortal-combat tomorrow. He could be really useful, also after Camelot has fallen." He smiled cruelly.

"Give me a few months and you will have an excellent assassin. All have a weakness; it is my job to find his. He shouldn't be too hard to break." He walked over to the young warlock, and placed his hand on his brow, while he began to mumble words in another language, ignoring the king once more.

Cendred knew he shouldn't say anything and thought it was a good moment to retreat, so he left the room.

Nothing could take away the first taste of victory through; this was going to be much easier than he had first thought.

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Eadric looked down at the warlock. He had finally woken up after two whole days; Miley must have used a more powerful spell than he first intended to. He cleared his throat and waited for the warlock to look at him.

"Good," he began to address him, "The next few months I will to train you in the art of fighting. I will teach you to fight with a sword, the best way to throw a knife and how to shoot perfectly with a crossbow; you will become an excellent fighter." The boy didn't say anything and was just glaring at him. He ignored it, "You should be grateful for such an opportunity! Not everyone is granted such a chance!" The boy looked away, not very impressed or excited at the thought of learning the best ways to kill others.

"Well what do you say?" Eadric taunted with a grin.

"I will never fight for you!" the boy hissed quietly, but the little edge of fear betrayed him.

The Shadow just laughed. "You don't have a choice in _that_ matter." He turned away from the warlock and took two knifes from a little table, facing him again.

"The rules are simple; I attack you and you defend yourself. Don't worry, I have enchanted the blades; if they hit they will not make any physical damage, you will just feel the pain." He smirked.

He was truly enjoying this.

He threw one of the two knives over to the warlock, and took a fighting-stance. "Go on, defend yourself!"

The warlock didn't move a muscle. "No."

The Shadow just shrugged.

"As you wish."

In one swift motion he was beside the other, and plunged his knife into his shoulder. The warlock screamed in shock and pain, and collapsed to the floor. As soon as the knight pulled the knife out again, the pain stopped.

The Shadow looked down as the warlock laid on the ground, now breathing hard, and continued to smile.

"Defend yourself." He said again. The warlock just shook his head and got up again, but didn't reply. The Shadow sighed, but his eyes and wide grin showed just how much he enjoyed it.

Then he stabbed him in the shoulder again.

This time the boy's voice broke, and he just laid flat on the ground, his eyes pressed hard together and his breathing ragged.

This continued for a few minutes. The sorcerer would attack, and the warlock refused to defend himself. In the end the warlock barely even whimpered at the pain.

When the boy didn't even try to stand again, The Shadow stood up and took the two enchanted knives with him over to the table.

The warlock gave a little sigh in relief.

The assassin-turned-knight called for the guards; it was enough for today. The boy couldn't take so much, and they didn't want to break him completely; he had to be able to think a little for himself.

When the guards had hauled the boy out of the room and towards his new chambers, the Shadow began to retreat to his own room. He could feel their link getting stronger; it wouldn't be long before the other person would begin to feel it too.

Eadric knew that some of the side effects would come from the link; one of them would be that Balinor's son would feel some his emotions - and the other way around. That was another advantage; he would feel the same hatred towards Uther, and it would only grow as the link got stronger.

The Shadow couldn't wait much longer. He had waited _so long _for revenge for what Uther had done to him and his kind, but he would have to wait a few months more. Then he would_ finally_ be ready. He knew that Cenred only desired the throne, and for now that was fine, but if the king got in the way, he wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

Cenred and Uther had an army, but Eadric had magical abilities and, in time, would have the son of the last dragonlord bound to him. If played the right way, his cards would be much better than theirs.

He would succeed, and no one would be able to stop him.

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Many miles away, in a large cave under the great castle of Camelot, something began to move. The beast opened his eyes and snorted. He could feel it; after twenty-five years he could finally feel it. Destiny had been awoken and was about to begin. But even the ancient creature could feel that there was something wrong, and destiny had changed. Words claimed another meaning and the players of fate were walking different paths in life; the goal may never come to pass.

He shifted his position, and a low rumble escaped his throat.

The time for magic to be free once more was nearly upon them, but if it would come with Albion and peace, or war and death, that hadn't been decided yet.

That was Emrys' own choice.

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**For new readers: I will be using many names to OC that means something. The name will say something about the person (looks, past, present, future ...) And this an AU of season 3, but where Merlin never came to Camelot.**

**_Names:_**

**_Harold: _****leader of an army**

**_Eadric:_**** Power**

**_Burl: _****Cup bearer or butler**

**_Wiley (here used Miley):_**** trapper or hunter, devious person**

**_Regebat de animus:_**** control of the soul (soul as thinking, feeling, willing, intellect, understanding, soul) according to Google translate (Latin)**


	3. Words written

**Chapter 2 - Words written**

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**Beta: BlackBandit111**

**Words: 2807**

**I don't own Merlin**

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It took two more days before Merlin decided that he had to do something.

His whole body hurt - not from the wounds but from all the strange exercise he had endured since he arrived.

The Shadow would arrive every morning before even the sun had awoken, and he would first leave him alone again when the silver moonlight illuminated the room. Every day was a struggle for staying strong, every night a fight against the nightmares disturbing his sleep.

On the fourth day he finally picked the knife up.

He achieved in deflecting the first of the assassin's blows, but the second followed too quickly for him to block in time and it grazed his right leg. The pain was enough to make him take a step back, and he nearly dropped his weapon, but at least he didn't collapse to the ground like the other times.

That was another thing that had changed; the pain wasn't blinding anymore. He began to focus more on his movements and his thoughts were beginning to clear.

"Don't let the pain control you," was the Shadow's only comment on his struggles. The hood concealed most of his face, as it had done since Merlin saw him for the first time; only a flash of white could be seen when he grinned.

Merlin tried to back away from the smirking knight, but the Shadow just calmly followed his every step while he tried to provoke him to attack again.

Merlin was not one for violence. He had grown up with a loving mother who had taught him to stay out of trouble, no matter the kind. It had been very important at that time; his life had depended on it. He could easily have lost his control over his magic if he had had play-fights together with the other village boys. Instead he had been forced to stand to the side, unable to join in.

He had ended being the lad all the others avoided; sometimes they even chased and beat him. It didn't help that no one knew who his father was.

The other kids needed someone to pick on, and he had been the perfect choice.

He had only had one friend, Will, who had lost his own father in a war. He had been the only person who had talked to Merlin, and in some ways he was the only person who could understand him. They had been like brothers, always running around and playing tricks on the other villagers while trying to avoid the older children who bullied them. Even when they sometimes had been caught, he had never lost control. And now, as young man, he had had nearly fully control over his feelings. It was very hard to make him show any kind of anger or hatred.

But right now he really didn't care. His magic wouldn't react on his behalf anymore anyway, and his thoughts and body were not always under his control either.

For the first time he was filled with different emotions, good and bad. They all swirled around in him, like they wanted to break free. They were leaving him overly confused. He no longer knew if they were his own or if they belonged to the man he apparently was bound to. And he didn't even really care.

The worst was that he was feeling slightly thrilled by the idea to fight, and that even the idea to hurt someone wasn't bothering him as much that he would like. The adrenaline was leaving him panting and his heart was beating like there was no tomorrow. All his senses were on their highest. He shook his head to clear it. _Where did all that come from; it wasn't like him at all!_

That was all what Eadric needed to attack again, this time he hit him in his shoulder. "Never lose focus," he commanded.

Merlin stumbled back a step and tried to keep his balance, while letting out a hiss of pain. _Control the pain._ The assassin yanked the knife back, and the burning pain slowly lessened, even if he could still feel the tingling feeling from the nonexistent wound.

Eadric just ignored it. "Come on, attack! Show me what you are made of, boy!" Like if he ever could land a blow on a man that could read his thoughts, and could nearly control his body perfectly...

He shuddered a little when he thought back at the first time The Shadow had used that new kind of power. Even if it hadn't succeeded completely, the small moment when his body and mind suddenly belonged to another was the worst in his life. He wasn't able to describe what he had felt, only that he feared the day where he would lose it again.

There were fates worse than death.

He was hit four more times before he managed to deflect an attack again, but the stroke was so powerful that he lost his blade in the process.

He spread out his arms in a gesture of peace, and backed again until his back hit the wall. He waited for the false knight to attack again, but he just turned around, picked up the other knife and laid them both on the table.

In that second Merlin saw the way over to the door was free, and he thought about running, or even to try to knock Eadric out when his back was turned. He had tried that once before, and he had already found out that that wasn't possible, so he cast that idea away quickly.

The Shadow turned around again with a big smile plastered on his face. He had, to Merlin's great relief, completely ignored what the younger magician had just considered, and instead began to address Merlin again, saying, "See, I told you that you would give in someday," the sorcerer's eyes sparkled with mirth in the darkness of his hood.

"Now we just have to work with your techniques and reflexes … You know, I could just _make_ you do it, but what would the fun be in that?" If Merlin could see his eyes he would have seen the coldness that ruled the sorcerer's heart.

"Besides I will not be able to watch you at all times …" You could even hear the smirk in his voice, and with that he turned to the door and strode out.

When the door was closed again, and Merlin was left waiting for the guards to escort him back to his new room, he couldn't help but shudder.

What had he got himself into this time?

* * *

Hunith had always been a gentle and loving woman. She had decided that her goal in life was to make a good and caring man out of her son. Merlin was the only thing she had from her first and only love, and her son grew to look more like him every day, both in looks and soul. And it warmed her heart.

It had been love by first sight. She knew he was coming; a letter had arrived from her brother Gaius a few days beforehand. She had never found out who his family were or where he came from, but she would guess that he was some kind of noble, due to his clothes, his fine leather saddle and beautiful black stallion.

Balinor had only stayed for a few months, but they had fallen deeply in love and had planned to marry. Sadly, fate didn't agree with the young couple.

One night he had woken her up, and whispered to her that 'they' were coming. He had to leave to keep her safe. She had known that he was hiding from Camelotian knights, but she had thought that he would be safe on this side of the border.

She promised not to say anything, even as tears ran down her cheeks. She knew she couldn't go with him. She would have followed him into hell, but it was not the time, and she understood that. He had kissed her for the last time, and as they stared into each other's eyes, there was only the feeling of deep love, the fear forgotten. For a moment they were lost in thoughts of what could have been.

Then the sound of hooves interrupted the moment, and she had watched as he took his backpack and disappeared into the night. His promise to return still hung in the air; the only thing she had left, or so she thought.

Seven months later Merlin was born.

The magic hadn't been that much of a surprise; he was too much like his father. She hadn't as much as one magical-bone in her body, and she didn't know what to do when he began to levitate things around in the house only a few hours after his birth. She had wanted to write to her brother for help, but after the purge it had become too dangerous.

People were executed for less, and the borders didn't matter as the incident with Balinor just had proved.

She was scared for Merlin. What if someone found out and took him away? She had to raise him to hide and lie from the moment he was born. She felt awful for it, but that was the only thing she could do to keep him safe. She had tried to do everything she could to make him a kind of son Balinor would have been proud of.

Now, twenty-two years later, she was still waiting for her love to come back.

And now her son had gone missing too.

Hunith sat on her chair and stared into the fire. She had always been a strong woman, and even with tears running down her cheeks, she wouldn't give up hope.

Her loved ones would return to her.

She knew it.

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Merlin stood right in the middle of his room. If you could call it a room, for it was more like a comfortable prison. The door was locked and he knew there were two guards stationed just outside. He could hear them whispering and occasionally the clicking of their chainmail when they moved.

No chance of getting out that way.

The stone floor was a dark grey that matched the rest of the castle, and did nothing to lighten his mood. The furniture was the same dark colours, dusty and old, like they had been left here when the castle was build and not cleaned since.

There were only two things of interest: the first was a four poster bed, filled with fluffy pillows. It was nearly as big as his mother's house. Whenever he slept in it, Merlin felt like he was drowning in the blankets.

The other was a drawer with paper and quills, there was even some ink. Paper and ink were expensive he knew, not just something everyone had, so he was glad they had let it stay. They probably didn't think he could write anyway, and he couldn't use it as a weapon either, so they probably just didn't bothered to remove it.

They were wrong, at least with the first one. His mother had learned to read and write from her brother, and had taught him since he was little. His mother only owned one book, one about basic healing, another gift from her brother, but even if Merlin now knew it by heart, he knew it was more than most people had.

His mother had had very little paper, only enough to hold the contact with Gaius, and so she taught him to write by using a stick and drawing forms in the dirt. At that time Merlin had thought it to be a new game, one that quickly turned rather dull, but now he appreciated his mother's lessons.

He walked over and sat by the desk, a new clean paper before him and the quill ready to dip into the inkbottle, but he couldn't think of anything to write.

He missed his mother, but he knew he couldn't return to her. He had to play his part for these men. He knew the consequence if he didn't.

By reading his memories, Sir Eadric had quickly found out that by threatening his mother's life rather than Merlin's, he could get him to work with them much more willingly. That was one of the reasons that he had given in today; the false knight had begun to talk about visiting his mother and bring her on a 'holiday' to the castle.

Merlin had been horrified by the idea of his mother living here. He knew that they probably would take her to the castle eventually, when he would be send out to complete his task The Shadow always talked about, whatever that was, but he would give her as much time as possible.

He abandoned the paper and walked over to the window. He could see right out on the ocean. When he first got this room, it had been the first time that he had seen it. Now he had made it a habit to stand and look out on the waves as the clashed into the shore, wondering if the beasts in there would ever tear the castle down, so they would sink down to the hidden treasures on the bottom that no mortal had seen before.

He would stare out at the moon as it cast its glittering silver light on the surface; he wished he could enjoy its beauty, that he had the time to get lost in the wonders of nature.

The full moon was high on the sky when he finally went to bed.

* * *

A few weeks after his arrival, Sir Eadric decided to take the next step and showed him how to throw a knife.

He had spent the next two days just trying to hold it correctly and learn _how_ to throw it, and one more day to get it just to hit the target once … while standing four feet from it. It was harder than just fighting with it, but he liked it much more, as neither he nor anyone else was hurt during that time.

Sadly, The Shadow's training not stop there, and when he deemed Merlin ready to move on, they started sword fighting instead. The fighting was a little bit as fighting with swords, but instead of getting close to the opponent, it was about slashing and ducking more than stabbing.

Afterwards he tried shooting with bow and arrows, with limited success, and crossbow which was a little easier. At least he hit the target with that one.

At last he had to learn hand to hand combat.

Unlocking doors with the most ridiculous things, funny but really a toenail?, and various other things The Shadow thought could be useful.

Four months went by before he had finally mastered everything.

Now there was only one test left; he had to 'prove himself' as The Shadow described it. Which really meant he would fight a real opponent.

To the death.

Apparently the king had chosen one of his knights, Merlin could understand from what he had been told that the king found that rather funny and entertaining.

Merlin was going to be sick.

* * *

That night he pulled out the paper once more, and began to write.

He knew he wouldn't be able to send a letter to his mother, so instead he just began to write about what was going throught his head at the moment. Maybe that would help him sort his thought out …

The words just came to him, popping up in his mind. Thought about what had happened, memories of his mother, stories he had heard, and a lot he didn't even know where came from. He wrote them all down at once, new words always replacing the last ones. In the end he had written a little poem.

******'~*~'**

**Rising from the ashes**

**Dressed in black feathers**

**Washing them white through the ages**

**Those of which you destroy**

**'~*~'**

**They think you only evil**

**Your white heart bleeds**

**The emotions of men is your revival**

**The power on which you feed**

******'~*~'**

**You who the death-bell rings**

**You who no one comforts when you cry**

**Spread your charcoal wings**

**And fly angel, fly**

******'~*~'**

When he had finished he wasn't really sure where it had come from, it wasn't what he had wanted to write at all... but it rather fit in some strange way.

He looked at it a last time before folding it and hiding it under his bed. Maybe not the best place, but it had to do. He then stood up and prepared himself to go to bed. He had to get as much rest as he could.

The dawn broke much too early for his liking.

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**Tell me what you think - Do you have any theories regarding this stories? Something you like/dislike? :)**

**OBS: (c) - the poem used a part of _"Fly angel, fly"_ belongs to me - please don't copy/etc. ... without permission. Thanks ;)**


	4. To win and to lose

**Chapter 3 - To win and to lose**

**Beta: BlackBandit111**

**Words:3964**

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Merlin woke by someone whispering in his mind. He couldn't make out the words, but he counted at least three different voices. He opened his eyes, and blinked until the light didn't blind him anymore. The voices had disappeared as soon as he moved, and they did not come back.

The golden sunlight warmed him a little and for one small moment he just sat there at peace with himself, until reality set in and the light seemed to dim to a dusty yellow instead.

He released a small sigh. The bed creaked a little when he stood up and he began to prepare for the day. There stood a table by the wall on the other side of the room; it was now nearly covered by fruit, cheese and meat. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion; he hadn't even heard anyone come in. Someone obviously thought he needed some luck for today's test.

They were probably right.

He began to stuff his mouth full; flavors he didn't even know touched his tongue. He was well aware of that he most likely looked ridiculous, but he didn't care. He had just realized how hungry he truly was.

A half an hour later a guard knocked on his door and entered before Merlin got the chance to answer. The soldier gave him a blank look from under his grey helmet, and gestured for him to follow. The warlock slowly stood up and carefully made it to the door, his head slightly bowed in an attempt to not attract too much attention and to appear as defenseless as possible. He thought he succeeded rather well, but wasn't comforted by it at all.

He wasn't surprised that they hadn't sent more soldiers; the Shadow could still use his bond from the bracelets, and what were his new developed skills beside years of battle training?

He had tried to accept his fate, tried to not let it bother him, but the truth was that he was scared. He was afraid that this would be the day he died.

His thoughts wandered back to his mother. She would be waiting for her son to return. It would destroy her if he didn't. He couldn't let that happen. If he couldn't fight for himself, he could at least fight for her.

They strode down several long corridors, all empty with the exception of a few other guards, who didn't as much as turned the gaze in acknowledge.

Finally they arrived at a big wooden door, obviously the throne room.

The guard walked over in front of two guards, who were stationed outside the doors.

"He has arrived as requested," he growled with a deep, raucous voice. Merlin cringed slightly as the guards' eyes pierced him with their gazes, and quickly lowered his eyes to the ground.

He nearly took a step back in shock when he finally gathered the courage to slowly lift his gaze from the now familiar gray floor. The guards had started to open the doors, and through the gap he could just make out the throne and the king sitting grinning on it.

Merlin hadn't really met the king yet, but with the whispers from the guards by his door and how The Shadow talked about him, he thought he could have gone on fine without.

His escort gave him a slight push, and he nearly fell flat on his face as he stumbled into the room.

It was time.

* * *

It was a morning like any other after her son had disappeared.

The sky was a light blue and together with the golden corn made the perfect picture of peace. A few years ago such a day would have made her son laugh out of joy. She loved it when her son laughed. She knew he had had a harder life than others his age, the burden of having to hide a part of himself was a heavy one, but on these sunny days the burden seemed to disappear for a while.

He would usually hum some melody for himself and maybe even find the time to pick her some flowers. Her boy had a heart of gold; every mother's dream, it wasn't fair he had to go through so much, and who knew what more he went through now?

Today she once again woke up at dawn, she had no eyes for the good weather or the beauty of nature; she just went on with her duties for today.

First she had gone out to collect eggs for breakfast. She always made two bowls for dinner because one day her son would come back and she wanted to be ready. But like any other morning he didn't come. She only cleared her own bowl away; her son's would first be replaced when she went home for dinner.

Afterwards she began to work. She would have a harder time finishing harvesting the vegetables in her own garden while still having to help the other villagers getting the grain back from the fields, and therefor she had to use all her strength to work harder than when she had had her son to help her.

She wiped the sweat of her brow and couldn't help but smile when she remembered how a five year old Merlin had stumbled around while trying to help his mother, but managing to ruin more - much to the frustration of the neighbors.

The sun stood low on the sky and it was nearing the time to prepare dinner when hooves could be heard.

There were no horses in Ealdor. Horses were expensive and Ealdor was just a small outlying village at the edge of the border of Essetir and Camelot, they could manage but nothing more. Mathew, the head of the village, owned a coble of oxen which they used to pull the cart and the plow, but that was it.

Horses meant visitors.

Hunith hurried to her front door and peeked out; she could see all the way down the village's main road and all the way into the forest. The sound of hooves had died out, but she couldn't see anyone; the road was empty beside a little bird picking after insects in the dirt.

She looked towards her neighbor; she could just make out the outline of the young couple and their two sons looking scared out of their window. No one ever trusted strangers after what the bandit-leader Kanen had done. He had stolen their food and killed the eldest son of Matthew and the village had nearly gone to the king for help – even if they knew it would be useless.

At that time her son had secretly chased the bandits away by randomly tripping them and setting fire to Kanen's cloak. Merlin's best friend, and only other person to know of his magic, William, had nearly been killed in the progress. He only survived because Merlin had pushed him out of the way of the arrow – their friendship had been even closer afterwards.

She closed the door and slowly went and grabbed a metal poker, the heaviest object in the house, and placed herself behind the door – ready to knock out any enemy who dared to enter.

It was a shame that it didn't help her.

From the memories The Shadow had collected from Merlin, sadly fewer than he had wanted to but still enough; he now knew exactly where his soldiers had to look for her.

In that moment the men were surrounding the back of the same house, while being very careful not to get spotted by the scared villagers. The leader, Sir Miley, one of the few men who could call himself 'Knight of Essetir' and the same person to kidnap her son, was currently thinking of the best way of getting Hunith out of her house and into the woods without anyone seeing them.

Normally they could just march up the her door and demand that she followed them, but Cenred had made it very clear that it was a secret mission and no one were to be able to point them out; rumors travelled far too quickly to be stopped in time.

At last he decided to wait until nightfall, he knew it was a rather obvious plan, but their black clothes and capes with Cenred's crest would blend in perfectly; no one would know who Hunith's captors were; order fulfilled.

His men shuffled uneasily around at the edge of the forest and Miley tried not to cringe every time one of them stepped on a twig. Why did he have to get the noisy idiots to a secret mission?

Finally the time was right. He looked on his men who were nearly quivering with excitement and gave the order to attack. The soldiers stormed forwards shouting out battle cries and destroying the thicket; not thinking at all on their orders to staying quiet. They behaved exactly like the king's hunting dogs and Miley could have rolled his eyes at them had the situation not been so dear.

Five minutes, one knocked out soldier and several bruised men later, his men had dragged the lone farm lady into the woods. They pulled her forwards so see fell on her knees before him, the position was supposed to show her who was in charge, but Miley nearly winched at her glare which seemed to burn him with its heat . He managed to ignore it, and instead just nodded for his men for them to take her to the horses while calling over his shoulders, "It's a pleasure that you would be so kind and join us, my lady."

Hunith ignored him, abandoning glaring at him to instead to stare into the air as she was dragged on the ground and bound to one of their spare horses. He turned his head and for a second his face was eliminated by the moonlight, showing his worn but young face. "I hope for you that you chance that attitude; it will get you nowhere where you're going …" He mumbled so quietly Hunith was sure he had said it to himself.

She frowned. "Where are we going, Sir Knight?" Her voice was quiet but strong, not showing her fear to the enemy.

The knight turned his head around once more, but this time the darkness created by the forest made her unable to see anything more than his silhouette. "To the end of the world," He answered grimly.

* * *

Merlin fixed his attention solemnly on the king. The man was younger than he would have guessed, but otherwise looked exactly like he had heard people describe him; cold and cruel. The king's dark eyes held his gaze, which together with his confident and arrogant smirk made him look insane. The young warlock concluded that he probably _was_.

He could hear the sound of the door closing behind them, and then the shuffle of the guards as they went back to their posts, blocking the only way out.

He was unsure of what to do next. Not that it would matter if he knew; his brain's connection to his legs seemed severed, and he was sure they would rather buckle than carry him if he tried to go anywhere. 'Help' came in the worst thinkable way as he could feel his thoughts became blurred and his senses dulled until he lost the control completely.

His feet carried him towards the throne, moving him in a confident pace that was much too calm to be normal.

Cenred's smirk widened as he watched the boy walk closer before stopping to kneel a few meters from his feet. He recognized the slightly glazed look in his eyes from The Shadow's description; the only way to identify the link without the magic. Not that you would notice it if you weren't looking for it in the first place...

He felt the excitement from the prospect of the first part of the plan finally being complete; only one test to go.

He stared at the kneeling form before him while calmly addressing the hooded man to his left, "Let's see what we got here."

"Oh, it will be worth the wait I'm sure," Was the whispered reply.

Merlin's thoughts became clear once more and he nearly lost his balance as he once again was in control of his body. He felt like a horse about to be bought as he felt both of the men's gazes inspecting him. He slowly lifted his head a little and glared at the grey king, whose lips thinned but the smile still didn't waver.

At last the king broke his gaze and instead shouted to a knight standing in the corner. Merlin had completely missed him with his black cape with a snake on it; the traditional Essetir crest. The man was tall and looked like he could snap Merlin like a twig. The knight seemed to think the same as he smiled cruelly down on the warlock, showing his yellow teeth.

Merlin took a deep breath. Death seemed to have taken a special liking to him because the last few months she had constantly danced around him, and now apparently chosen to take the change and grasp him for her own. _Why was life so cruel?_ Merlin was only glad his mother didn't have to see him like this about to be killed by this beast of a man.

Panic made his breath quicken and heart threaten to leave his chest, but he forced himself to calm down.

Focus. He had to focus, or he wouldn't get out of this. _And what will you do afterwards? It's not like they will let you go or invite you for dinner …_ He ignored the thought.

"Rise, boy," Cenred snarled at him and he quickly stumbled to the side.

The king rose from his throne and gestured to the two competitors. "A petty king would wish you luck and 'fight with honor'. I'm not a petty king. The only rule is that there are no rules." He grinned and the knight let out a small growl in glee, seeing a sure victory before him.

"The last man standing is the winner; no mercy," the King's eyes caught Merlin's and grinned as the boy flinched. A group of servants came out of the shadows, all wearing blank expressions as they carried piles of different weapons into the middle of the room and dumped them in a big heap of bulking grey metal and black wood. They disappeared just as quickly as they came and the king sat down.

"Let the battle commence!"

Both the fighters ran at the pile of deadly treasures. Merlin quickly snatched a pair of knives, knowing very well it was the only weapon he really could defend himself with. He could see a glimpse of metal as the knight drew something heavy from under a shield. The next moment he lunged at Merlin, using all his strength to swing his two-handed sword at the warlock's head.

Merlin instinctively dived out of the weapons path, feeling a slight wind as the sword past his head by inches. Before the knight could give it another, probably more successful, try, Merlin jumped over the pile, using his smaller and lighter frame to his advantage. The knight wouldn't be able to follow with all his heavy leather armor and chainmail, and had to step around it instead.

Merlin mirrored his step, making sure to always being on the complete opposite side.

The knight snarled, annoyed. "Scared boy?" He taunted.

Merlin just glared at him; he would have liked to retort with some witty comment, but thought better of it. He would rather safe his breath for something else, like keeping himself alive, he also discovered he didn't even know his soon to be killer's name. He wasn't sure why it mattered, he was going to die after all, but some buried human instinct wanted to _know_.

He didn't _want_ to die. Wasn't it too soon? But that's probably what everyone who was killed thought, or he supposed it would. Why was he even thinking about this right now? Shouldn't he rather concentrate on staying out of the sword's reach?

Too many questions to be answered in the given time; the hourglass was running out - for one of them.

He wasn't sure which one would be the best for him.

He had been lost in thoughts for too long, and the next thing he knew was the knight standing before him and the pain as the sword cut into flesh. He crashed to the ground as his legs gave out and stared at the red blood flowing out of the deep wound in his left thigh.

He gasped as the air no longer seemed to reach his lungs. A fleeting thought told him that the fact that he couldn't feel any pain couldn't be a good sign, and he hoped it was because of the adrenaline feeling his body. The thought was soon forgotten, as the grinning knight towered above him.

"Playtime's over."

He swung the sword down for a killing blow.

Merlin stared unblinking at his upcoming end as time seemed to slow around him. He waited to see if the saying was right, and he really would see his life flash before his eyes. He instinctive raised his right arm, barely sensing the lack of weight as he had lost one of his weapons in his fall. He looked like he tried to stop the sword. He discovered that he could move in normal speed while the rest of the world continued to move in slow-motion.

_Magic._

_My magic is protecting me again._ He should have been so surprised; his magic had always aided him in time of need. Only after coming here had it nearly laid dormant. He had thought it had something to do with the 'bond', but maybe it had been something else entirely…

He quickly guided his magic towards the sword, stopping it and sending it flying in a long bow through the room before landing clattering on the ground out of reach.

Time returned to normal, and the knight looked confused after his sword. Using his moment of detraction, Merlin stood up leaning heavily on his right leg, and swayed dangerously.

He looked at the knight as he too slowly placed himself in a fighting stance.

He may have lost his weapon, but his cruel eyes were still filled with arrogance that spoke of a thirst for blood wealth that was so deep that Merlin knew what would happen a second before it did.

He acted without thinking, battle training finally kicking in. He tossed the knife from his left hand up in the air, where he caught it with his right and threw it forwards just as his intended target lunged at him.

Merlin stumbled back and collapsed once more as his legs gave in for real. The sound of his heartbeat filled his ears, drowning all other noise. He lost all feeling, like he wasn't really there at all, and only his shell was left behind in the nightmare.

It was impossible to say who looked most shocked; the warlock on the ground or the knight staring, confused, at the dagger in his chest. The crimson stain grew and painted the chainmail where the dagger had cut the metal links.

_It shouldn't be possible_.

But it was.

Finally his enemy slipped to the ground, eyes cast unseeing at the celling.

_Murderer._ The word was whispered in his head. _Murderer._ He didn't even know the man's name and now he was dead.

Killed.

He thought maybe he ought to have reacted in some way, but he couldn't remember how to move. Instead he just continued to watch the puddle grow, even as the king once again stood and laughed, clapping a few times.

"Well done," the King's eyes shone with triumph as he turned to his cloaked companion, "well done, indeed."

The cloaked sorcerer didn't react and the king's smile turned a little annoyed, and he quickly turned his attention back towards the new champion and continued, "Our last guest should have arrived by know, the plan starts tomorrow." It was clearly Merlin had been dismissed, even without the guards moving to escort him back.

Before he turned fully around, Merlin saw as the king gestured disgusted towards his dead knight. "- And take Sir Bil away, I have no use for him now."

Then the doors closed and Merlin just let himself be dragged by the guards without really realizing where he was brought to.

* * *

The door closed behind her and she could hear the lock clicking into place.

The room was small and the candle in the window barely gave enough light for her to see where she walked, let alone anything else. She quickly went to the window and looked out. Would she ever be able to walk out of this prison again?

Right now she didn't care; she had other, more important things to worry about.

Like where her son was.

The chance of being in the same castle was very high; it would have been too unlikely for two different parties to kidnap both her and her son if the plans weren't related. That, and the fact that they knew which house she lived in.

_What had they done to her boy to get that kind of information?_ He wouldn't have told them willingly, she knew; her son was too foolishly selfless for that. _Maybe they knew already?_ She hoped so.

She froze when she saw a shadow moving in the corner of her eye. She would recognise it anywhere.

_"Merlin!?"_ she whispered. The flames sparkled in his eyes in a strange way. The shadow nodded. She let out a sob and rushed towards her son, engulfing him in a hug. She clung to him even more as his frame began to shake with his own cries.

_"Oh, my boy,"_ she whispered, _"What did they do to you?"_ He just laid his own arms around her. She led him towards the bed and sat down on the edge. The next hour they just sat there while she rocked her son slightly back and forth while mumbling soothing words like she had done when he was a kid. She could feel his tears on her back, just as she was sure he could feel hers, but neither of them mentioned them; instead just took the comfort they could be being together again.

_"I killed him,"_ he suddenly whispered, _"I_ killed_ him, Mother!"_ his voice broke and he sobbed even harder afterwards. Hunith took a deep breath and began to rub soothing circles on his back.

_"Who, my boy?"_ she whispered back. No accusation could be found in her voice, no hate. Only motherly concern.

A few minutes passed before he answered.

_"The knight."_

It was quiet for a long time after that, and she thought he wouldn't tell her anymore, when suddenly the words came flowing out. "He was going to k-kill me and the knife …" He took a deep breath before whispering, "_Oh god, the blood … So much blood" _he swallowed thickly and slowly raised his head and looked at her, the tears trickling down his face, "Am I a monster?" he asked thickly.

Hunith shed another tear at that, laid her arms closer around him, and mumbled into his raven hair, _"Of course not my boy."_ She wished her tears away and smiled watery down at him, even while he had his head buried in her shoulder.

_"Now shh, my boy. It's a new day tomorrow; a new day for us all."_

Finally they both let sleep claim them.

* * *

**So as you can see I have rewritten this whole chapter – the thing most noticeable is probably Miley's personality. Don't worry; he will play the same role as the last time… We will see where he ends … Or, you will – I know ****_everything_****… *insert cruel laugh here* ^^**

**_Meanings:_**

**_Bil: _****Sword or halberd**

**- See you, and please leave a comment- especially about what you thought about Miley ^^**


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